


Hands Free

by FourOddApples



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 16:43:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15711231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourOddApples/pseuds/FourOddApples
Summary: There was a reason Carol had picked Frieda as her number one lackey. It wasn’t just her hidey-hole that was perfect for selling drugs, or how she always remained in the background and took care of herself and only herself, seemingly shy but absolutely capable of fucking you up if need be. She was resourceful and intelligent, sneaky and knew everything about everything and she didn’t bat an eye at violence. All of those qualities made her a valuable asset. But there was also something else that drew Carol to her.Some character study aspects, mostly smut. I'm not sorry, there's not enough out there of these two yet.





	Hands Free

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing fanfiction... ever? Pretty much? I'm just very gay and very into these two and very upset that there's so little out there about them, so I decided to make up for that myself! Please let me know what you think! I kind of maybe want to write more smut in the future, so definitely hit me with some constructive criticism if you have some. (Just be a little gentle, it's my first time.)
> 
> Trigger warnings for mentions of past non-consent / questionable consent.

There was a reason Carol had picked Frieda as her number one lackey. It wasn’t just her hidey-hole that was perfect for selling drugs, or how she always remained in the background and took care of herself and only herself, seemingly shy but absolutely capable of fucking you up if need be. She was resourceful and intelligent, sneaky and knew everything about everything and she didn’t bat an eye at violence. All of those qualities made her a valuable asset. But there was also something else that drew Carol to her.

She was quiet but resistant. Frieda had an energy to her that was not rebellious enough to make Carol’s blood boil in murderous rage, but it was just enough to intrigue her and make her mind feel itchy. Something about the way Frieda carried herself spelled independence and the inability to be broken and that was exactly why the urge to break her was slowly growing in the back of Carol’s mind. Frieda had never told her no, she had never disobeyed openly (and Carol was waiting for it, internally begging for the stupid girl to make a mistake so she had a reason to cut her throat and get that urge to break and destroy out of her system), but even though she was a wonderfully obedient pet, Carol never felt like she truly owned her the way she had with all of her other allies before. Frieda belonged to herself and no one else and this kind of situation was interesting to say the least.

At first it felt like a challenge. A reason to tell Frieda about every way she had fucked with people, up to describing in great detail the look on her little sister Debbie’s face the day she’d drowned her in the frozen lake. Frieda neither seemed intimidated nor did she reciprocate. Carol knew she was in for first-degree murder, but at no point did she seem to feel the need to talk about it. The silent aura of self-sufficiency and personal authority remained as Frieda watched her threaten people, cut people, punch walls, draw dismembered corpses (and corrected her on anatomical accuracy). No matter what she did, nothing elicited an emotional reaction. Carol felt herself going more and more unhinged in the other girl’s company, as if to constantly one-up herself in an attempt to get just the slightest look of fear on her face. It became less of a challenge and more of a problem, something that started keeping her up at night. And still, Frieda remained the perfect lackey in her actions without ever budging in her attitude, and it was beginning to drive Carol mad.

 

When she snapped, the library was mostly empty, and Frieda was mostly silent, and it became a little too much to handle.

“I’m gonna go to dinner”, Frieda said in her usual Southern drawl and got up from the dirty blanket on the floor. Carol had been standing by the bookshelf, sorting through her bank box and this was when the past few weeks overflowed in her mind and she whipped around, took a large step towards Frieda and pushed her into the wall behind her, holding her in place at her collarbone, both of her hands pinned up in instinctive self-defense. Photos fluttered down between her body and the wall. Frieda’s eyes were wide, every muscle was tense, and now there was caution in her eyes, calculation, but still no fear. No fucking fear, even now she looked more like a predator than prey, she still looked disgustingly, rottenly in control considering she was in the weaker position. Carol felt her teeth bare and her short outburst of a yell was frustration more than anything else. Frieda was quicker than her, but she had been surprised and she was not physically stronger, nowhere near. She knew that. She didn’t even try to break free. Carol knew that her shiv was hidden in her uniform but with her own arm in place the older girl would not be able to reach it. She saw the options running through Frieda’s mind through her eyes as she stood silently pressed to the tiles, waiting for her attacker’s next move.

Carol leaned closer until she could feel Frieda’s breath on her face. Quickened, at least a little bit. Just that tiny detail sent a shiver down her spine.

“I could fucking shiv you, right here, you know that? Straight into your gut. Or cut your throat. I could turn your fucking insides out, nerd.” Carol’s own heartrate had doubled, this was what she lived for.

“You could”, Frieda drawled. Her voice was steady, and every word was well thought-out. Her body may be in an arousal state of fight or flight, but she was on top of it all. It made Carol’s blood boil in a way she had never experienced before. And yet, she didn’t want to kill Frieda. That would be too easy.

“So, what are you gonna do about it, huh?”, Carol sneered, leaning even closer. “Will you cry? Beg? Why don’t you whine a bit for me?”

Her eyes remained cautious, weary, but obnoxiously, infuriatingly calm. Frieda didn’t care for her pride, Carol realized in this moment. She would not submit to death threats, she would follow every demand in a practical scheme to stay alive but at the end of the day, she remained under her own authority by doing so, because staying alive no matter what was what Frieda did. She could weasel her way out of anything, but she would never truly sell her soul for it. She would never have to. Carol’s nails dug deep into the older girl’s shoulders. She was not interested in Frieda’s begging for mercy anymore, considering it would never mean what Carol needed it to. And so, when Frieda opened her mouth to beg, Carol silenced her with a kiss that was more a bite than anything else.

It was aggressive, hot, brief. Fire in her veins for just a split second. Carol had kissed girls before, she’d done many other things with girls before. Most of the people who caught her eye were male, but there had been some women in the past as well. She bit down on the older girl’s lip and for just a moment she heard Frieda’s breath catch in her throat and the tiny noise set her aflame. She broke away to look at her and for the first time since she’d known her, Carol saw something raw in Frieda’s eyes. It sent shivers down her spine. Death wouldn’t break Frieda. But maybe this would.

“Or”, Carol leaned close to the other girl’s ear. “I could fuck you.” Another one of those small noises of air catching in her throat.

“You could”, Frieda said again, but oh she sounded much less in control now. She had kept herself a strictly controlled fire for so long, this sudden darting flame was more than she was immediately equipped to deal with. Her voice was still steady, but it betrayed an edge that had never been there before. She only took a moment to regain composure, but Carol was sure as hell not going to let that happen.

The second time their lips pressed together, Frieda no longer felt like the predator under Carol’s hands, and this time she tasted like prey. Her muscles, tense in self-defense, weakened slightly, and she responded to Carol’s demanding tongue as dutifully as she ever had. Oh, what a wonderfully obedient pet.

As quiet as Frieda usually was, her reciprocation of the kiss was assertive and anything but shy. Carol bit her again, this time tasting blood, hoping to get another one of those tiny noises out of her and she wasn’t disappointed. Fever raged through her veins and she was dying to get her hands all over Frieda, but she still felt like she couldn’t weaken the prison of her arms for even a moment or else Frieda might seize her opportunity and run. And Carol was not going to let her prey escape now that she’d caught it. She felt herself going lightheaded from the lack of air, but she couldn’t break free, couldn’t let go, she needed more, she would consume it all if she could. Consume all of her. She hated their uniforms now more than ever as she pressed her body closer to Frieda’s and pushed her knee up between the other girl’s thighs. Another noise, less concealed this time, singing of the beginnings of pleasure, and as Carol finally broke away to catch her breath, Frieda’s breath was going quickly, and her face was slightly flushed. Her eyes were darker than before. If she looked like this already, what would she look like when Carol was done with her? The idea sent a wave of heat all through Carol’s body that settled down and made its home in between her legs. She noticed now that Frieda’s hands had gripped Carol’s uniform sleeves as much as they could being pinned in place and in one swift motion she held both of Frieda’s wrists, now pinning them each to one side of her torso. It might have been Frieda’s opportunity to break free and run, but she didn’t. Good girl.

 

Carol had to get her own hands free, to keep her toy in place so she would be free to take ownership of every piece of Frieda that she pleased. But she couldn’t let her go. Her survival instinct would kick in, she would run, and it would all be ruined. Really, all Carol had to do now was make Frieda not care whether she lived or died. She for sure would make her forget the fucking difference.

She leaned in slowly now, still holding Frieda’s hands to the wall, her lips now at the other girl’s ear. “You were gonna beg me earlier, weren’t you”, she muttered and kissed the skin just below her ear. A slight shiver went through Frieda’s body and every point of contact where Carol felt it received a shock. Her own breath was a lot harsher than she remembered as her lips wandered down her prey’s neck, kissing, sucking, biting even. Consume all of her. She couldn’t go down very far, both their postures and that god-forsaken uniform stopped her from claiming what was hers. She moved back up with a frustrated hiss and bit into that beautiful flesh on her neck enough to leave a mark.

“Carol”, Frieda said between broken breaths and as Carol now looked up to see her eyes, they were dark and primal. There was still some caution, but whatever battle it was fighting, it was losing. “I won’t run.”

“Oh?”, Carol responded, breathing the sweetest, faintest butterfly kiss on her lips. “Well, that’s good, cause you’re dead tomorrow if you do.”

But Frieda didn’t even seem to care. She wasn’t promising to stay out of fear – as much as Carol would have liked this to be forcefully taken (as she had done before), Frieda was offering it up willingly. This both made her furious… and sent another feverish wave through her body. Hands free, hands free. “Don’t move”, she commanded and let go of Frieda’s left hand, her own darting to the shiv she had in her pocket, in case the other girl too would go for her weapon. But she didn’t. Her hand remained up against the wall, silently obeying as her eyes remained on Carol and now she could see in Frieda’s eyes a fever of her own and it drove her crazier than that untouchable aura had, but in a very, so very different way. Her own small shiv still dancing between her index and middle finger, she slid her free hand into the older girl’s uniform. Frieda’s breath caught, but she wasn’t going for skin. She found what she was looking for and held up Frieda’s shiv next to her own, grinning widely as she slid them both into her own uniform. Truly defenseless. An offering, just for her. And still, underneath the lust Frieda’s eyes retained a hint of authority. Not quite broken yet.

Carol leaned back in for a kiss but stopped just short of Frieda’s lips. “You move your hands without my permission”, she murmured. “You won’t see tomorrow day.” It was now her prey who leaned forward to close the tiny gap between their lips, her kiss had a certain hunger to it that incited her own. Feed, and feast. Consume all of her. She let go of Frieda’s other hand and finally both her hands were free. She let out a noise of her own, dark and primal, as she let them wander, grip, hold, claim. Her chin, her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders, Frieda exhaled sharply into the shared space of their mouths as Carol gripped her breasts, all the while not letting go of her kiss. Down, down, her hips, her thighs. She slipped one hand down the front of her pants and was rewarded with a noise that was almost a whimper. Had Frieda’s lust only been a vague idea before, it was now very evident in what she found. Good girl. Carol started working up her pet’s body the way she’d learned with other girls she’d had, and she could tell it was working. Frieda no longer stood still, she was moving, almost like waves rippling through her spine, her shoulders and hips squirmed but all the while her hands remained on the wall where Carol had ordered them to be. The first little moan escaped, and Carol struggled to breathe. Not yet though, not yet. She wanted to leave claw marks all over her toy first. Her fingers stopped abruptly and went back up the way they’d come. Frieda concealed her frustration well, only her hands clenched to fists and her eyes betrayed her.

 

“You were gonna say something earlier, before I rudely interrupted you”, Carol said, offering up her fingers to Frieda’s mouth and she obediently took them in to clean them up. When she was done though, she remained silent. So, she was willing to beg for her life without a second thought, but not for this. Interesting. Carol was not done yet anyway. “Take off your shirt”, she ordered and took a step back, and Frieda obeyed. One layer, then the next, then the last. She dropped her clothes to the floor. She was a porcelain angel, Carol noted as she stepped in closer again, grabbing both of Frieda’s hands and slamming them back in place against the wall. Maybe that was enough to make her knuckles bleed. Carol wanted to make all of her bleed. So beautiful, so fully intact. Not innocent though, the tattoos winding their way around her upper body told the story of a woman who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, who owned herself with no questions asked. Not anymore, though. This was Carol’s offering, her blank canvas to draw destruction on, her perfect base to ruin.

 

While her face went in for a possessive kiss, her hands wandered, this time over skin. She left shivers on Frieda’s body where she went, she rolled a nipple between her fingers and got a breathless moan for it that vibrated in her own mouth, almost physical enough to swallow. While one hand teased and played, the other claimed ownership. She dragged her fingernails over the soft unbroken skin, dug in deep but her pet did not flinch even as she drew blood on her hip. Claw marks. Ownership. Fuck, not enough, none of this was nearly enough. She drew more blood. Better, but not enough. She bit Frieda’s lip once more, harder this time, definitely enough for both of them to taste the iron ting in their mouths. Frieda shivered under her touch, her knees began to tremble slightly. Carol set her mouth free, only to wander down, leave more dark marks on her neck, teeth scraped against collarbone, then her breasts. Frieda no longer held her noises back and every single one of them grew more desperate and made Carol feel more like a lioness devouring a gazelle. She played the nipple between her lips, with her tongue, Frieda was trembling. She bit down on it slightly and received a breathless gasp. Still, her toy was standing, and her hands were in place where Carol had left them. Such a good, good girl.

“Carol”, she heard again, this time barely more than a whimper. _“Please.”_

More heat in her center, more electricity running through her skin. Fuck. This was better than driving a shiv between Frieda’s ribs could possibly have been. To hear Frieda beg for something that was not her mere life was almost enough to send her over the edge herself.

Slowly, Carol dropped down to her knees, her hands wandering down with her, leaving another small bloody mark on her pet’s hip bones and dragging her pants and horrid prison underwear down with them. She was shaking, waves going through her body, she wouldn’t need much.

“What is your purpose in this moment, Frieda?”, she asked, the breeze of her breath hitting the other girl’s center and making her inhale sharply.

“Whatever you want. I’ll be anything you want”, came the response, embraced in hasty breaths and lust. Any trace of control or authority was gone. She had relinquished it all, given it all up and dropped it at Carol’s feet. Broken. Owned. With this triumph, Carol leaned forward to finish what she’d started, her hands gripping the other girl’s thighs while her mouth unraveled her. She had been right, she truly didn’t need much. As she came undone, she could barely keep on her feet and would probably have dropped to her knees if Carol hadn’t been holding her up, and still her fists remained on the wall as the rest of her body bucked and shook. While her pet rode her waves, Carol slipped a hand into her own uniform. She didn’t need much either.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke as Carol got back to her feet and, upon permission, Frieda dropped to the floor where she gathered her clothes back up. Carol handed her her shiv back.

“So”, Frieda broke the silence. “What does that mean for me?”  
“It means”, Carol said. “That you belong to me. And next time, it’s your turn. I’m gonna go to dinner.”


End file.
